


I Don't Want You Dead

by xXQueenofDragonsXx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt Remus Lupin, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Music, M/M, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Young Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25122244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXQueenofDragonsXx/pseuds/xXQueenofDragonsXx
Summary: Some people lose their clothes or their jewelry, or maybe even their wand if they're unlucky, but not Remus, no, he didn't lose any of those things -  Remus Lupin lost his will to live.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	I Don't Want You Dead

Some people lose their clothes or their jewelry, or maybe even their wand if they're unlucky, but not Remus, no, he didn't lose any of those things - Remus Lupin lost his will to live.

It had happened slowly over the years, so slowly that he hadn't even noticed till now. He didn't feel the dull ache in his heart, hadn't felt the eternal cold that encompassed him... None of it and nobody else noticed either. He should've felt offended, hurt that not even his friends had seen it, but he didn't. He didn't feel anything. He wanted to call for help, to scream and cry, but he couldn't. His heart still beat, his limbs and organs still functioned, but his mind was empty - at this point, he was already dead, his body had just not caught on yet. He was practically a walking corpse.

And the truth was, he didn't even care. 

* * *

Sometimes Remus wondered if the beauty of the world would ever come back to him, with bright colors shining into his eyes wherever he went like it used to. Nowadays, everywhere he looked, everything was dull and grey like the sky on a stormy day. Everything he did, he did almost mechanically. Every word that left his mouth felt like they came from someone else, they were hollow, empty, meaningless... 

He was paralyzed, no longer able to feel things, he had been that way for a while. Since he was sixteen, probably, and nobody noticed. Sirius looked at him with suspicion and was too blinded to realize what Remus was really going through, James and Lily were too busy being new parents to notice Remus' troubles, Peter didn't look at him at all... and he didn't care.

Sometimes he wondered if he should.

* * *

There are some days where Remus couldn't even bring himself to get out of bed, but he convinces himself that it was because his muscles were still sore from the full moon, that he had caught a fever and needed to rest. He knows the truth but doesn't want to confront it. He drowns himself in cheap firewhiskey, butterbeer, or anything with alcohol in it that he could get his hands and doesn't care if it's dangerous, because he honestly couldn't even give a damn anymore. 

Even when he continues to wake up each morning with a raging hangover, passed out on the couch with an annoying stiffness in his neck, Remus couldn't bring himself to care, because it's a reminder that he is still alive, it made him feel things, and that was all he wanted. The reason he continued to live, the reason why he didn't just end it, was the war. He needed to fight to protect the ones he loved, even when he knew they wouldn't do the same because it gave him a purpose.

A purpose to live or die, he didn't know. But did it really matter?

* * *

By the time he turned eighteen, he had started looking forward to the full moons. He knew that, two years ago, he would've been horrified at the fact, but at this point, he couldn't bring himself to care. He had begun looking forward to the pain the transformation would cause because it made him feel. He didn't take potions to stop the ache in his bones because he needed the reassurance that he was still alive even though Remus didn't want to be. The transformation gave him a break from the pains of life, and he welcomed it.

And you know what? He didn't care.

* * *

He had been nineteen when he started purposefully harming himself.

Burning, cutting, slamming himself against things, scratching himself, anything that would cause pain he would do. He began realizing that nothing was more satisfying than bleeding out his emotions, and so, he did. It started with the bad feelings, you know the ones: sadness, anger, fear, terror, resentment, before moving onto the happy ones: happiness, peace, hope, comfort, pleasure... He drains it all out with a slash to his already pale skin or pressing his hand to the side of a bubbling cauldron.

After a while, he began keeping a razor with him at all times, and whenever things became too much, he would hide away in a bathroom and cut at whatever skin was unmarred. And whenever he was unable to escape, Remus would - in the pretense of itching an itch - begin scratching and rubbing at his arms, stomach, or legs until they oozed with blood. 

Nobody even noticed.

* * *

After their breakup, Sirius immediately ran to Marlene McKinnon and began snogging her. The first time he saw them together, he put a smile on his face and pretended that everything was alright. It didn't hurt, it stopped bothering him a long time ago, so, when Marlene had come to him after with a guilty expression and asked if they were still friends after she 'stole' his boyfriend, he smiled, hugged her, kissed her cheek, and told her they would always be friends and that she was worrying over nothing. 

It didn't stop him from collapsing against the door and bursting into tears once he got home.

* * *

It was a warm, sunny evening that Remus' secret (not that he did much to hide it) was finally revealed.

By who exactly? None other than Harry Bloody Potter. The one-year-old baby who didn't even know how to walk yet was the reason that everyone found out. A part of him wondered if he should be annoyed that a baby of all things was what exposed him, but honestly, he was kind of just amused.

How had it happened? Harry had waddled up to him at an Order meeting, demanding to be picked up. And, of course, he had obliged, lifting the boy into his lap, and had returned to listening to the meeting while making sure Harry wasn't about to topple over. A few minutes later, Harry had let out a little shriek and began tugging at Remus' sleeve.

"Unca Moo 'urt!" He had cried, his lips wobbling. 

"What was that, Harry?" James asked in a curious voice.

"Unca Moo 'urt!" Harry repeated, and Remus realized with a start that his left sleeve had ridden up, revealing the scars on his arm to the little boy. Panicked, he had tugged his jacket back down. But his alarm had already been noted by the ones around him. 

Moody lunged over without wasting a second and had yanked up his sleeve, probably expecting to see the Dark Mark or something of the like. Instead, he - and the rest of the Order - saw what Remus had been doing to himself. The scars that marred his skin, the reminders of how fucked up he really was.

Remus froze. So did everyone else.

Lily was the first to move. Slowly getting up from her seat and taking his arm from Moody. Nobody stopped her. 

With a few waves of her wand, Lily had healed a majority of the cuts. The newer ones. He would forever be stuck with the older ones no matter what he did. 

When she looked back up, there was such a heartbroken look on her face that Remus - for a moment - felt guilty. Because he seemed to have a habit of feeling guilty for the things that weren't even his fault. 

"Are there any more?" Lily had asked in a soft voice.

"My other arm," he whispered hoarsely. He didn't bother mentioning the ones on his stomach and legs. 

Lily healed his other arm too and - without another word - he had handed Harry to Lily and left.

Nobody stopped him.

* * *

As soon as he's home, he flees to his bathroom before bringing out a blade and running it over his skin. He bleeds, he watches as the beads of blood dribble out, but he doesn't feel any different. 

He begins to grow panicked, and soon enough, he starts slashing at his arms. He doesn't notice it when he begins to feel dizzy, doesn't feel it when he fell to his knees, didn't know when the door slammed open, didn't hear the panicked voices.

He didn't even notice when he lost consciousness.

* * *

He wakes up in a soft bed, and at first, he's confused. But then he recognizes one of the guest rooms in Potter Manor, the one he usually stayed in, and he begins to put the pieces together. 

Sirius is at his bedside. Head in hands, hair disheveled, and hysterical sobs wracking his body.   
"..rius?" Remus manages to force out. His throat was drier than it ever had been before. When was the last time he had any water? 

He couldn't remember. 

Sirius's head shoots up immediately, and Remus spares a second to wonder how the hell he didn't break his neck. Sirius simply stares at him for a few moments before snapping out of it and practically lunging on top of Remus. Remus yelps at the sudden weight, and Sirius moves away. He then grabs his hands and squeezes it tightly, as if afraid that if he let go, Remus would disappear. Remus stares at him in confusion, slipping out of the dull haze that swallowed his mind just long enough to hear a single sentence escape Sirius's lips. 

_"I don't want you dead."_


End file.
